


Make you blush.

by Mystrothedefender



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sorry!, idk how to tag this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrothedefender/pseuds/Mystrothedefender
Summary: John tries to embarrass Bruce during their lunch at a restaurant.For a request from tumblr: 'John tries to make Bruce blush' (in a kinda kinky way).
Relationships: John Doe/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Make you blush.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clawmachines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawmachines/gifts).



The restaurant was the busiest John had ever been in, the noise of the customers chatting was making him anxious. Bruce said it was busier the last time he’d visited, but John didn’t even want to think about that. It made his stomach turn.

“Why don’t we sit outside, where it’s quieter?” Bruce offered, a soft smile on his face.

John thought about it for a moment; would he be able to handle the noise of the crowd as well as whatever sensory issues he might face while eating?

It was a nice day, perhaps not the best, but outside Gotham any day that wasn’t overcast or raining was good.

He shrugged, “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok,” Bruce confirmed.

They walked through the back door together and looked around for a free table.

John bounced on the balls of his feet as he spotted one, “Oh, Bruce, here!”

He darted to the table and sat down at it, grinning at the couples at the neighbouring tables.

“Come on buddy!” he said loudly, patting the table, smiling wide.

Bruce smiled as he came to the table, sitting down and picking up the menu, “What are you going to have?”

“Ravioli,” John said instantly. It was the same thing he got every time they went out. It wasn’t even his favourite food, it was just what he got every time… He thought they kind of looked like little hats.

“Of course,” Bruce said, nodded weakly, “I don’t know why I ask.”

“Because you’re polite,” John cooed. He let out a soft chuckle. “What will you have?”

Bruce shrugged, “I’m not sure…”

A waiter approached them, he looked a little dishevelled, John would guess he was near the end of his shift, and just now it was getting busy.

“Hi,” John said, before the waiter got a chance to introduce himself. “I’d like a coke, and some ravioli, and my husband will have cranberry juice and…” he held his hand out, gesturing for Bruce to talk.

“Uh,” Bruce said, suddenly feeling rushed, “Chicken and asparagus risotto, please.”

“Please,” John grinned.

The waiter nodded, “Good choices. We’ll have those with you soon, and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Bruce huffed as the waiter walked away. “You know it’s rude to rush people, and order for them.”

John shrugged, a smirk coming to his lips. “They’re busy, you just sit ‘umming’ and ‘ahing’ for 10 minutes and then pick cranberry juice and whatever the first thing you saw on the menu was.”

Bruce exhaled through his nose, “Thankyou for being considerate then, I suppose.”

“I try,” John smiled, letting out a weak chuckle.

Bruce’s eyebrow raised microscopically, a gentle smirk coming to his face. “I like that you called me your husband.”

John raised his hand, wiggling his ring finger, “Is that not what you are?”

“Yes, but… It’s the first time you’ve said it.”

John let out a giggle, a soft blush on his cheeks, “I liked saying it.”

He leaned over to tap the arm of the woman at the next table to get her attention, “Hey!” he smiled.

“Uh, yeah?” she said, looking over at him quizzically.

“This guy here is my husband,” John grinned.

“Uh…” she looked over at Bruce, forcing a smile, “Congrats.”

“Thankyou,” John said, the smile on his face growing wider.

“John,” Bruce whispered through his teeth, “Don’t do that. Disturbing other people while they’re eating is rude.”

John chuckled. “You’re blushing,” he cooed. “You look so cute when you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” Bruce insisted.

The cute smile on John’s face quickly turned sly. “I can make you blush.”

John saw Bruce’s jaw clench as he spoke.

“Don’t, if you disturb the other diners we’ll get kicked out and you won’t get your ravioli,” Bruce said softly.

John let out a soft chuckle, cupping his hands together. “I can make you blush without disturbing _anyone_.”

He pulled back as the waiter returned to them, their two drinks on a tray.

“We have a coke for you,” the waiter announced, placing John’s drink in front of him, “And cranberry juice for your husband.” He smiled between them, “Your food shouldn’t be long.”

They nodded in thanks, silent until he left.

“How would you make me blush without disturbing anyone?” Bruce asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“It wouldn’t be hard,” John grinned. Under the table he slipped off a shoe, and lifted his foot to rub up the inside of Bruce’s leg.

“Hey!” Bruce yelped at his touch.

John giggled, “Now you’re the one causing a disturbance.”

Bruce bit his lip, settling back in his seat. “John,” he whined, embarrassed. “We’re in public.”

“Yeah?” John shrugged, moving his foot further along the inside of Bruce’s thigh.

“What if someone sees?” Bruce protested, although John was sure he felt him tilt his hips slightly.

“No one’s looking,” John cooed, “If you’re quiet no one will notice a thing,” he let out a light chuckle, his toes finally brushing Bruce’s crotch.

Bruce clenched his teeth, a soft hiss leaving his lips, he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair.

“John,” he said calmly, “If we get kicked out of this restaurant it will be in the papers.”

John let out a growled laugh, “Then you better keep your mouth shut.”

He pressed harder against Bruce’s bulge, massaging it slowly, feeling it swell at his touch.

“If you tell me to stop then I will,” he said slowly.

Bruce let out a soft growl before shaking his head.

John let out a soft titter, taking Bruce silence as permission to keep going. He pressed against him, rubbing Bruce’s groin in a slow repetitive motion.

Bruce was trying to not let his arousal show on his face, it was so amusing, watching his jaw clench and unclench, his brow twitching. He looked so cute, a rare helpless quality to him.

Bruce cleared his throat, straightening slightly in his chair as the waiter returned to them again, a plate in each hand.

“Sirs, your ravioli,” he placed a plate of delicious looking food infront of John. “And risotto,” he placed a plate down infront of Bruce.

John felt his mouth start to water as soon as he saw the food, it looked and smelled amazing.

“Thank-thankyou,” Bruce said, he was trying to sound normal but the word left him in a stuttered squeak, a soft blush coming to his cheeks.

“Enjoy your meals,” the waiter said politely before walking away.

John let out a laugh, unable to stop himself, smiling wide.

“Oh, Brucie, that was such a cute noise you made!” he cooed.

Bruce scoffed and shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You squeaked,” John informed him, “And you are blushing.”

He pulled his foot back from Bruce’s crotch, his smile widening still at the soft grunt that Bruce made as he moved away.

“John,” Bruce said quietly, “I didn’t say stop…” It sounded as if it hurt for him to say that.

John shrugged, “But Bruce, my ravioli!”

Bruce shook his head, shifting in his chair, the expression on his face changing slowly. “I’m going to make you pay for this later,” he growled, lustfully.

John stabbed a ravioli with his fork and popped it in his mouth, letting out a soft moan as he chewed. “Oh, I’m _sure_ you will.”


End file.
